Wednesday, October 22, 2014

I'm living in the surreal house.

When I decided to uproot my entire life and move to Indiana I had some things going on that felt like they needed dealt with. My way of dealing with them? Saying- the hell with this!! And moving on. So, I did just that. And it worked. But it still feels a bit surreal to me. It's been two years this month, and for some strange reason it doesn't feel like I'm actually living here to me.

Don't get me wrong, it's great to be surrounded by family and for things to be more offset than they have been in a very long time, but still, there's something. Something that I just can't quite put my finger on. You would think after two years that it would be pretty well sunken in, but it's just not. It still feels off or something.

Maybe it's because I keep waking up expecting to walk outside and see a back road instead of a busy one. Maybe it's because I keep expecting to run into an old friend of mine at the gas station, that is inevitably never there. Maybe it's because I still expect to get out of bed, put on a pair of scrubs and head off to help someone ready for their third dialysis appointment of the week. I don't know. I just don't know.

I'm happy here. I'm content. I love my peaceful, little, undramatic existence. And I love the fact that I get to spend so much time with my mother, brother, aunts, uncles, and cousins. I love that Momma and I have a little apartment that we can call our own, and that Tayder is still lugging around and giving me snuggles when I need them.

But it's weird. It's weird going to a job completely out of my element. It's weird writing letters or sending text messages instead of seeing my friends. It's weird not having Grammy to talk to about stories that only a grandmother knows and to give me a hug. It's strange to me that all of this still hasn't sunk in for me.

I think it has something to do with the fact that I don't have my memories here. I mean, I have a few from when I was a little girl, but for the most part I was raised far away. I had my own friends, my own way I handled things, and I grew up in a way that others wouldn't necessarily find proper. And I love that. I love that I got to grow up somewhere that allowed me to form and find my own sense of self. I love the person that I am.

I'm not the best, but I'm not the worst by any means. When I love, I love with my whole heart. And when something makes me sad, I cry real tears. When I'm happy, I laugh, and sometimes I just can't quit. When I'm mad, I say why I'm mad out loud, and I don't sugar coat any of it. I have no filter and if i think it or feel it, you can pretty well guarantee that the world will soon know about it too.

And it's just me. It's just who I am. and right now, it just so happens that everything feels a little off key for me. But, it's ok, because it will all be figured out soon enough. Sometimes it just takes my mind a few extra minutes to catch up as opposed to the rest of me. Afterall, it's still trying to get used to these Indiana winters.